Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Ugh.
For the love of St. Nick, how does he always do this?
How does he always transition us from fury to fun so seamlessly?
I’ve never met another person in my entire life that could do that.
At least not with me.
Once our amusement fades, Igor angles his body more my direction. “Mne zhal'.”
More than familiar with the apologetic phrase leads to me asking, “For?”
“Yelling.” His lips momentarily press together. “Yelling at you. Disrespecting you in a way you damn sure didn’t deserve.”
“I know why your preschooler was throwing a tantrum. Why were you?”
The heavy sigh that hits the air seems to rattle the entire couch. “It was a shit game last night. Being shutout always feels like shit. Havin’ to wear a fuckin’ cage again ‘cause of that high stick I took to the face. Missing our call last night and again this morning because time zone differences suck ass…” He gives the side of his neck a soothing rub. “And then the plane ride was fucked because instead of reading the rest of Bridget Jones’s Baby-”
“Yeah…I’m still not gonna buddy read that with you.”
“-I had to comfort and calm down The Rookie who isn’t used to big Ls in the league yet.”
“How very Bridget Jones of you.”
“And then I finally get home only to find out that my daughter is apparently the real-life incarnation of Angelica while I was hoping she was more like Susie.”
Amusement over the Rugrats reference can’t be held out of my tone. “Black?”
“Kind.”
Giggling immediately begins and rather than further explain himself Igor steals a moment to simply stare on.
Get lost in what he swears is his favorite thing.
Making me smile.
Once the sounds of laughter subside, he releases another sigh, this one undeniably defeated, “I feel like a shit dad, Joeski. And feeling like a shit dad when you’re already feeling like a shit cap just…had me…lashin’ out instead of ending my shift, taking a breath, and getting my head back in the game like you suggested.” He scoots a little closer prior to apologizing again. “I’m sorry – as the man you work for – for mistreating you as an employee, and I’m sorry – as the boyfriend – for crossing a line I shouldn’t have crossed.”
A pleased hum slips free. “Forgiven. On both accounts.”
“Spasibo.” His fingers give the curls he can reach a small touch. “Now, can we rationally talk about this pet situation? Because I really don’t want a pet, and I really, really don’t want you making that call without discussing it with me. Yeah, I trust you. And yeah, you’re wearing the C in this department, but that’s a major life decision…one that I think we should both be in the same barn about.”
“Agreed.”
Confusion crinkles forehead. “But I thought-”
“No, you didn’t think. You assumed. And you assumed wrong. We didn’t get a pet. We kinda rescued one. And not really rescue. More like…just kind of keeping an eye on the little thing to make sure nothing happens to it while waiting for its mother to return.” Pointing across the yard near Bella’s playhouse is done next. “It’s over there.”
Igor whips his head in the direction of my finger to get his first look at the creature. “What the fuck is that?!”
“That is Kitty.”
“And what the fuck is Kitty?!” He cranes his frame forward just an inch. “Is that a giant rat?! Did you rescue a giant mutant rat?!”
The eyeroll is instant. “It’s a baby opossum.”
“Why do we have a baby opossum?!”
“Because at some point its family made a tiny home on the backside of Bella’s playhouse
“Does she need to be checked for rabies?!”
“Do you need another two minutes in the box?” I sassily ask on snarky head tilt. “Because your reaction energy is around playoffs, and I need you more at preseason.”
At that, he offers me an impressed chuckle. “Gino for the analogy.” Igor clears his throat and does his best to relax back in his seat. “Ponyal.”
“Good.” Changing so that my ankles are crossed instead of my legs is accompanied by the responses he’s requesting, “Opossums actually very rarely get rabies. It’s a common misconception – stemmed from the defensive drooling and hissing that’s a defense mechanism – as is them destroying your yard or getting into your garbage – which is most likely a racoon that wants to eat them. Much like those things happening, leaving behind their young is also super rare; however, it does unfortunately happen. Bella and I discovered the little thing this morning when we came outside to have breakfast before school to try the environmental change tactic we discussed at her last appointment. She thought it was a cat, hence the name Kitty. But as you can clearly see Kitty is not a cat but a baby opossum that the veterinarian, I spoke to today says will most likely be gone in the next couple of days when its mother comes back for it. Until then…we were told just to watch for predators that might try to eat it.” My hands adjust themselves in my lap. “Kitty has actually been a great teaching tool. We’ve talked about what they eat versus what we eat, nocturnal versus diurnal creatures, and why keeping wildlife as pets is not good for them or us.”